Thief: The Game of Kings and Pawns
by Neutral-Man
Summary: Something happens when Garrett defeats the Trickster. With the Maw of Chaos crumbling around him the thief wakes up in a new world. A World that's just as cut-throat as the old one. Will Garrett survive and thrive in Kings Landing?


Preface: this is a bit different than what I have previously done, so here you go

I do not own or claim to own the copyrights of either Thief or Game of Thrones.

Chapter 1: The perturbed immigrant

Great. Now where am I exactly. Thought Garrett as he viewed his surroundings. They seemed similar in composition to the city but there were some subtle differences; the lack of steam drenching the shadowed roofs was the biggest, and the stench was another.

"Interesting" the eye purred in a sickly curious manor.

Garrett dissolved into one of the many shadows of the ally he was in; the action feeling comforting to his exhausted psyche. He needed somewhere safe too collect his thoughts, and the shadows, as always, were a tried and true facilitator for momentary respite.

"Utterly fascinating, and completely unexpected" the eye continued to ramble on with it's piercing whispers.

Garrett messaged his temples as he tried to remember what that Hammerite priest said. More specifically what he mumbled about what would happen in the event that Garrett was successful. Magic was never something Garret ever really used or knew much about. Of course he knew the signs of it, and how to avoid it, as was a necessity for his trade, but he never pried beyond the limits of what he needed to know.

Magic was esoteric by nature, and planar magic especially. The half heretical information ranted by the half-mad hammerite "Scholar" was, by consequence of his focus, forgotten by Garrett. So now he is here, in the dark, with no idea what to do next, or what even happened to him.

"It appears that my gamble has led to an unexpected outcome fleshling" the eye droned on.

"Gamble?" Garrets mind, annoyed, snapped back in unintentional response.

"Do you really think a puny fleshling like yourself could have snuck up on Constantine without my consent? I knew what his ritual would have done to me, and I could not let that happen. So I allowed you to fulfill your crude sabotage, mortal!" the demonic artifact whispered in an aggressive tone; like a chastising parent to an impudent child.

Garrett groaned at the condescension as he scaled the nearby rooftop. He decided he would put the more larger questions on the backburner as he prowled for a place to rest. At least it feels warmer than it should be. He said to himself as he remembered that the season was fall in the city. No telling what it is in whatever taffing place he is now. A faint breeze softly passes through on what feels like a stale summer nights air.

The ceramic shingle work provided less than optimal silence as Garrett strode across it. He was deep in whatever city he was in, probably in a well off district from the look of it; meaning more guard patrols and more frustrations on his exploratory walk. From his vantage point he could see some thatch roofing in the distance; the tale tell sign of a poorer area. Urban decay meant more nooks and crannies, and significantly less amount of watch patrols. Perfect for someone not wanting to be seen.

Suddenly Garrett remembered where all his loot was from his recent adventures. It was all in his stash, in his apartment, in the city. Garrett rather abruptly remembered how much he hates altruism.

Being broke and facing the unappealing prospect of squatting in a rat infested pit; Garrett quickly began observing the nearby houses for some easy loot. His trained eye quickly scoped out a nice mark. Relatively few guards, but with a decent size for a noble; probably recently down on his luck, and about to experience going even deeper into the barrel.

Most nobles, even in dire straits, will doggedly insist on keeping some heirloom from generations past. Usually some bauble of extreme uniqueness; which by nature precludes a quick paycheck due to it's own reputation. However it does appear that this noble may still have plenty of pocket change, so Garrett out of necessity decides to make an attempt without any prior research.

Observing the way there he decides to make his approach, at least from the start, from the streets. The loud material of the shingle work would draw more attention that any avoided by staying off the streets. Before he leaves the rooftops however; Garrett takes out his notebook and some graphite; then draws a quick sketch of the exterior layout that he could see. Then Garrett makes his way off the rooftop using two rope arrows on the siding. Spacing them out to ensure that he could retrieve both without breaking his legs, or making too much noise.

Garrett glided from shadow to shadow as he traversed cobblestone streets. During his travel he spied on a watch patrol. Gold cloaks, their mail and helmets seemed to look golden as well. Most likely a paint or stain job. Probably a very thin layer of bronze. They were covered in mail, but had little of plate. Their plate consisting of helmets, gauntlets, boots, and maybe a few others stitched in here or there. Good for Garrett; chainmail was great at stopping slashes, but horrible against blunt force. Along his route Garrett couldn't help himself and snagged a few night-owls coin purses. His technique was flawless. His marks never realized that they were robbed until much later.

The streets were very similar to the city. This place had grown quickly. The lack of civil planning gave the streets a labyrinthine tangle; it told of convenience in its construction. The streets twist around the center point of the city; a massive red castle on the higher cliffs.

In his trek Garrett began to really appreciate the lack of electrical lights. Torches often needed to be replaced, and they were often too bright; over-stimulating the eye and making the shadows seem even darker. With electric lights one could make just enough light, and then easily direct it; creating wonderfully efficient illumination. Plus the lack of power made for less light pollution. It was too easy for Garrett; he anticipated the coming challenge even more now as the estate loomed up ahead. Garrett rarely did jobs like this; only when he was really desperate and/or it was worth it. The former is confirmed, and the latter is still up in the air.

The estate was fairly common; three stories with a four story tower jutting out of the north east corner. Two guards were set up on the front gate trying their best not to look bored. Around four to six guards patrolled the grounds. An eight foot tall wall surrounded the estate. Stone posts were spread out about every five feet of wall. The stone of the wall only went six feet up; the rest of the length was filled out by metal spikes. Easy to climb; hard not to get poked.

Garrett circumnavigates the estate to see if there might be anything to help him climb over the fence. While doing this Garrett occasionally scribbles a note on his map; slowly filling out the details. He doesn't need much help climbing the wall, but some assistance would be appreciated. He finds what he is looking for when he spies several crates propped up against the wall near the servant entrance.

The stack of crates were probably filled with some mundane relatively unperishable items; in other words something useless to Garrett. The way they were stacked made the fence quicker to scale, so now Garrett didn't have to sweat his timing as much. Moon and torchlight unfortunately lit the path up and over, but that wouldn't matter if his timing was correct.

Waiting until a passing patrol was just almost out of earshot too make his move. He made his way over the wall. His methodical method was drilled into his muscles. Not too slow and get caught, but not too fast and get skewered. He landed on the soft grass; knees buckled perfectly to land softly, and dissipate the force of impact. Then Garrett silently bounded backwards into a shadow just as a patrol of two guards turned the corner. The patrol passed without a single suspicion.

Garret decided against black jacking them. Patrols were too frequent for him too get the bodies out of the way at a comfortable time. One can only be unconscious for so long and Garrett didn't want to rush yet. He circled the house again looking for an entrance. In his search he had ample time to swipe a guards coin purse. Eventually Garrett decided on a third floor balcony on the south side as his point of entry. The balconies wooden frame allowed Garrett to rope arrow up to the third floor.

The interior was as one would expect from an estate like this. Tapestries lined cool mortar walls. Carpets decorated the ceramic tile floor. Most of the torches were burned out by this hour; providing him with ample cover. Hallway stretched out in both directions from him. Garrett decide to go to His right.

The right hallway led to the bedrooms. The whole family seemed to be asleep. Garrett raided every room with the silence of a cat. An old family necklace from the eldest daughters jewelry box. The youngest son had a stash of savings in his desk. Big brother had a key hidden in a potted plant. Young daughter had a silver bracelet on her night stand. After he left the only evidence that he was ever there were the things that were missing. The mister and missus were having a late night discussion, so he decided to double back and stop by later if he had the time. As he turned to leave his curiosity got the better of him. He leaned his ear to the keyhole to listen to the conversation.

"Are you absolutely sure?" the wife said.

"Yes! Yes I'm absolutely positive!" the husband snapped back.

Unperturbed "I'm just making sure we've done this correctly. I don't want to even think about what would happen if this scheme were to fail." She responded.

The husband sighed "you're right, but I'm completely positive that he is clueless to our involvement".

"Good. Now just don't forget what you're supposed to do tomorrow." She coed.

"Yes, I am to go to the docks, and have a little chat with Scotty; he says that he can move it no problem, and we will have a significant cut of the profit." The husband rehearsed.

"Then let's celebrate. All our problems are over!" she finished seductively.

Garret left then; if he was still there after an hour he would be back for whatever valuables were in there. The library was mostly devoid of anything good. Mostly just a few coins. He found a bottle of fine wine and a gold goblet in the tower. Next to the library and tower was the study. In the study there was a safe. Among other things, including a journal detailing how this noble lord has apparently pulled a fast one on a fellow court mate and made off with an opulent signet ring. The ring was stashed in the safe. The inner workings of the safe were a bit above what Garrett's lockpicks could do, but on a lucky guess the key he snatched from junior worked just fine. He must have nabbed the spare while daddy wasn't looking.

The signet ring was a large gaudy thing; intricate gold lion designs covered the metal surface. A large ruby gleamed at it's center; a calligraphy L carved into it. All in all an eyesore, but an expensive eyesore. Garrett pocketed the ring and decided to leave; his night had been long enough. It's not every day one defeats a god.

A great take given the circumstances, and a great start to surviving wherever he is. He retrieved his rope arrow and climbed over the fence. Then disappeared into the night. As Garrett made his way to the poorer district, he reasoned that him being a one of a kind thief, and being new in town, that this job would create some ripples. He came up with a simple trick, like a slight of hand, one hand distracts while the other does the work. Just to be safe.

_ line Break-

When Garrett arrived at the district, he quickly went to an inn. It was not the most fancy of places, but this was where the merchants and mercenaries went after successful ventures. Garrett entered like he owned the place. A confident spring in his step. He made sure that his strides jangled his loot bag. He still had his hood up but one could see a satisfied smirk on his face. He strode to the counter and started to converse with the innkeeper.

The innkeeper was in his thirties. Thin rounded shoulders on a slim frame. Dark stubble on his tanned face. His wild hair was wrangled back momentarily.

"How may I help you" the innkeeper said in a inviting but neutral tone.

"Yes…" he paused as if he was savoring the moment "I would like a fine room and a fine meal."

"one night?" replied the innkeeper

"Yes of course!" shot Garrett with faux enthusiasm.

"two stags for the room; one stag for the meal" the innkeeper informed.

"Stags?" Garrett asked.

The innkeeper paused for a brief second to process before explaining "Silver."

Without missing a beat. "of course silver" with a quick motion Garrett pulled three silver coins from his loot bag; placed the "stags" on the counter then slid the coins across to the innkeeper. "Silver, got plenty of that." Garrett finished triumphantly.

"Okay. If you'll have a seat I'll have your meal out in a minute" the innkeeper stated.

"oh. I was thinking of retiring early, so may I have my key now, and could you please bring my food up?" Garrett asked.

"of course." The innkeeper courteously replied. So much courtesy and yet he will still sell me out. "here is your key" the innkeeper continued while handing me a key. "The fourth door on your left. Just up the stairs. I will be up their momentarily mister…?"

"Erik" Garrett replied.

"I will be their shortly Mr. Erik" the innkeeper finished.

Garrett then confidently walked up the stairs and into his room. He sat down in a decent inn room. His legs propped up on the table. He waited there for several minutes; hands behind his head. The innkeeper eventually made it to Garrett's room. He served a loaf of bread, a block of cheese, a bowl of stew, and a tankard of ale.

"Someone will stop by in the morning to clean this place up. Good night." Said the innkeeper before leaving.

As soon as the door closed Garrets smile evaporated. Garrett pounced on his food devouring it in minutes. After finishing his food, he stood up, took a deep breath, blew out the candles, and then climbed out the window.

-line break-

Garrett hit the street for the fourth time this night. The sun would be up in two hours. He needed some shelter soon. His muscles ached from use. A few early risers were already coming out, and it was becoming harder to sneak.

Garrett wandered around the poor district for around thirty minutes; looking for the right place. This city, so different from the one Garrett was from, but so similar.

Finally, he found the perfect place. The sign outside had a yellow cat on it. The sign, in bright yellow, proudly spelt "the Blonde Pussy." Garrett entered the place, as he normally does, silently. The door didn't even creak as he opened it.

The night had wound down. The sounds of crickets filled the room. The bard had retired to his bed with whomever he charmed in with him. Most people had left, but a few were passed out in the tavern. The bartender sighed to himself; he'd soon have to manhandle the tea totals out of his establishment. In the meantime he would clean some glasses.

The bartender was large man. Black hair long ago twisted wild. A rugged goatee around his mouth, and a shadow was growing on his cheeks. A little short, but built wide with muscle.

The thief walked up to the bar. "two days" he said.

Without looking up "four coppers" the bartender responded.

A brief second past before four copper coins were placed on the counter. The bartender grunted before throwing him a key; still too absorbed to look up.

"Up the stairs. To the right." He said.

Garrett simply took the key and went to the stairs. Finding his room was agreeable he passed out as soon as his head touched the pillow.

-line break-

"Stop hesitating fleashling!" Garrett's bloodshot eye snapped open. There was a faint sound movement in front of him. Garrett reflexively moved backwards while drawing his dagger. A moment later a dagger stabbed into the bed where his neck was. Quickly Garrett slashed at his assailants wrist. After a flash of blood his attacker drew it's hand back quickly. A brief moment of hesitation passed from the attacker which Garrett exploited by almost getting completely of his bed, but a reflexive haymaker from the attacker stopped him, and knocked Garrett prone on the bed.

The attacker stabbed downwards in an ice pick grip. Garrett braced his hand against the mans wrist while his dagger stabbed into the inward side of the mans forearm, and shifting his body to the right. This time the man gave a little scream of pain before Garrett kicked him in the face. The man reeled back; finally allowing Garrett to stand up.

Garrett briefly entertained the thought of drawing Constantine's sword, but dismissed it because his opponent was too close to him. Trying to draw a long sword would not help his chances of avoiding getting stabbed. Garrett charged forward, trying to disarm the assailant by slashing at the mans hand. The thief's dagger slashed across the assailants fingers; cutting the deepest into the index finger.

With a pained yelp the attacker dropped his dagger. Garrett charged further still; he stabbed towards his adversaries neck. The attacker, in a show of great strength, grabbed Garrett's wrist, stopped the incoming stab, twisted the thief's wrist, and then smashed Garrett's jaw with a right cross.

The thief collided with the wall behind him. His vision tunneled as his mind washed blank. His limbs felt numb as his eye swam around in its' socket. Garrett's vision finally settled on his attacker reaching for his dropped dagger with his uninjured hand. The thief's mind snapped to lucidity, and Garrett stomped as hard as he could onto the mans left hand.

There was a crunch; then Garrett kicked upwards and caught the attacker in the mouth. Teeth flew out of the assailants mouth as his head twisted to absorb the blow. He fell onto his back dazed, and in pain.

Garrett pounced on top of the attacker. The thief then slammed the man's head into the wood plank floor until he was no longer conscience.

Breathing heavily, Garrett collapsed onto the ground beside his former quarry. He laid their for about a minute catching his breath and staring at the ceiling. The ceiling was of a simple wooden plank construction. If one looked carefully they could see the attic through the little gaps between the planks.

Garrett's mind settled down enough to where the eyes dark whispers registered in his thoughts. "-upide mortal! Get up! Get up this instant!... Damn you!"

Garrett's eye turned towards his former quarry. It was the bartender looking even more disheveled than last night. The man had deep bags under his eyes. The eye probably didn't let him sleep; weakened his psych with a constant piercing whisper. The bartenders mouth leaked blood as he snored loudly, out cold.

With Garrett now being awake and in fighting terms with the owner the thief decided to leave. The thief opened the window and climbed out.

Garrett came to the conclusion that he got about three hours of sleep by the way his eyes burned in the open air, or perhaps it was the cities stench; one could make out a visible haze in the air. As Garrett wandered through the festering alleyways he idly wondered if the guards fell for his ruse. He got a chuckle out of himself from imagining the watch bursting into his room at the inn and finding nothing but a plate of crumbs and an opened window. The thief's thoughts quickly returned to what he was going to do about his eye; both of them.

The eye had pretty much just attempted to murder him, and he probably needed to cover up his empty eye socket before he scared some small children. Not that he would mind that; Garrett always knew when the little buggers would try and nab his purse, always. Although usually he was pretty much undetectable in a crowd, but it was more of a principal than anything.

The eye needed to go, and fast. Garrett didn't even know any of the fences here; much less anyone who was crazy enough to buy something like the eye; especially since probably no one even knows what the eye "is" here. No lore about it just meant that it was a demonic rock that speaks to you. Well he was heading to the docks anyway he concluded.

Before Garrett went on his way he stopped and pulled out one of the spare sacks that he carries around. The thief then tore a long strip of cloth off of the sack, and then wrapped and tied the strip around his head; covering his empty eye socket.

With that done Garrett continued on his way to the docks.

The dock were a busy place in the late morning. Constant loading and unloading. Peasants and "servants" straining their backs with shipments of this and that. Ship captains, from grizzled to green, shaking hands with fat merchants. The fresh stuff was sold here.

Among the crowds Garrett spied a particularly impatient man. The man was well blended in with the crowd, but if one managed to pick him out they would feel a sketchy vibe coming from him. This description fit many of the people within the crowd honestly, but their was a certain expression coiled on this mans face. Like he was nervous about what he was doing and angry about being nervous. He wanted this done quickly and like clockwork. But something was wrong; the plan had changed and he didn't know what was wrong, what variable had changed, and this scared him, and he was angry about being afraid. His composure is eroding away by every second the plan is off the rails.

This was the man that Garrett was looking for, but he would have to wait for a few seconds more because Garrett had to finish something. Garrett slid through the crowd to a more inconspicuous area of the docks. The burglar took the eye in hand, drew back, then threw it. The eyes dark figure sailed over the bay for a time before slamming into the water with a splash

Garrett briefly wondered why the eye was so quiet, but decided to focus on the possible fence, Scotty.

The thief made his way towards his mark, slithering through the crowd of people. When Garrett finally got close enough to the fence he simply said "Hello Scotty." Scotty, to his credit, only jumped a little.

"Outsiders swollen scrotum! Where the hells did you come from?" the fence yelled out to the man that he just noticed was standing next to him.

"I was told that Scotty would be at the docks today." Garrett responded in monotone.

"Yes I'm here! Now what the fuck do you want!" Scotty growled. Still aggravated from the scare he just got.

Garrett quickly cut to the point "I'm here about a rather specific ring that I believe you're looking for."

Realization dawned on Scotty's face before his eyes squinted. "So this is how it goes down. M'lord is to much of a pansey to come himself, so he gets some rouge in black to make the delivery, right?"

"… kinda" the thief responds.

"Kinda?" Scotty says with a quirk eyebrow.

"Well "M'lord" did have it but I decided to cut out the middle man, and then replace said middle man with my self. So I stole the ring and several other things that I think you will be very interested in, but lets get down to business."

The gears in Scotty's head turned for several moments while he stared incredulously at Garrett. After everything clicked into place Scotty simply said "Fuck it. Lets talk business."

"Good man" Garrett simply responded.

The thief then followed the fence into a nearby out of the way stall and started to barter. At the back of Garrett's head he couldn't help but feel that things just might be all right. The thought was quickly purged from his mind because that bracelet was not worth twenty gold!

AN: that's a wrap. I was at first hesitant to write this because I already had a GoT crossover up here, but when I started to write this I just couldn't stop. I was suddenly at 2,000 words, so I said "fuck it" and wrote this anyway, but I digress. I hoped you enjoyed it.

Coming in peace, Neutral-Man.


End file.
